


What the Ghost?!

by Statementends (Blueberryshortcake)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Basira/Daisy (BG), Canonical Asexual Character, Characters and Relationships will be updated each chapter, F/M, LonelyEyes, Mystery, Peter/Elias (BG), What the Ghost, podcast au, shifting pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-05-14 12:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19273768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/pseuds/Statementends
Summary: Georgie and Jon have a podcast. It's been getting a lot of attention recently.Shifting POVs of different people interacting with the WTG podcast and crew and how it ties in with the Magnus Institute.





	1. Martin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin is catching up on a podcast that might hold answers to the questions piling up in the Magnus Institute.

A woman starts out by speaking in a somber tone. 

“This podcast contains disturbing material. Triggers for the episode can be found in the description. Listener discretion is advised.”

Creepy music begins to swell and a low masculine voice fills the headphones. 

“Carlos Vittery doesn’t like spiders. It’s not their long spindly legs, or their large hairy bodies. It’s the knowledge. The knowledge that they are there. Waiting in the shadows ready to crawl on his skin without warning. But what if it’s not only the living spiders he needs to worry about? What if they can come back? Haunt him for past transgressions? We’ll be looking at Carlos’ story and his claim that the ghost of a spider he killed as a child lurks in the shadows of his every step, on:” 

“What the ghost!?!?!” The woman’s voice again, energetic now. The creepy music echoes a bit and comes to an end. 

“A ghost spider.” The same male voice again, but now deadpan and derisive.

“Now, Jon,” The woman began. 

“A spider. That is a ghost.” 

“Jooon.” 

“Absolute rubbish.” 

“Alright everyone, take a shot.” The woman laughed.

“Georgie…” Jon sounded pained. 

“For those not in the know some fans on twitter have been circulating a drinking game to go along with our show. One of them is: Jon immediately dismisses the topic as nonsense.” 

“A ghost spider.” Jon repeated. 

“Welcome to the What the Ghost!?! Podcast. I’m Georgie Barker.” 

“And I’m Jonathan Sims.” A put upon sigh from Jon. 

“Today we’re looking at … a Ghost Spider. Much to my co-host’s despair.” 

“Georgie, when you asked me to be your co-host--”

“Two years in March if anyone’s wondering.” 

“--You said we’d take things seriously, not go with sensationalism or preying on people that need medical expertise.We would look at the facts. Look at things that actually have--”

“Teeth? Oop mentioned teeth. Take a shot.” 

“I’m just saying this is a … stretch.” 

“What if I told you that Carlos Villery died?”

“I would say that that is a sad coincidence…” 

“Covered in spider webs.”

“...How long did it take to find him?”

“A week.”

“Well then, there’s probably some natural explanation for that that goes further than ‘ghost spiders.’”

“But--natural explanation take a shot--”

“Please don’t do that all show…”

“--Here’s an interesting thing. His name shows up in the code of Chelicerae, and he also went to the Magnus Institute to make a statement before his death.”

“Them again,” Jon’s voice got quieter. “...I assume people at home should take a shot for the mention of the Magnus Institute?” He sounded grim. “They have been coming up a lot lately, haven’t th--”

“Do you have a moment Martin? I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Martin shot up quickly pulling the earbuds out of his ears. 

“I! Sorry! Yes! Ah… sure. Yes. Of course.” He quickly slipped his phone in his pocket and stood. He followed Elias to his office feeling a bit of trepidation. What if he was getting fired? He always felt that plunge in his stomach whenever he had to talk to his boss. 

Elias gestured for him to have a seat. He did, clasping his hands so that he wouldn't fidget. 

“I know things have been hard after the… infestation,” Elias said slowly. 

“Oh--well I… uh… I mean… Tim got the worst of it. I was… I was fine,” He lied. He didn’t want to talk about this. Elias was a good man, but in a manager sense. Opening up to him wasn’t what he wanted. He’d just as soon try to forget the whole thing… well except he couldn’t. He couldn’t forget Gertrude’s body alone in the empty room with the boxes of tapes.

“Martin?”

“Sorry--sorry Elias I--It’s been… I’m fine. I just… I just want to get back to normal.” If that was even possible at this point. He woke up screaming every night remembering Jane Prentiss’ face, full of holes. Full of worms. 

“That’s good, something to focus on,” Elias offered a weak smile. “I was actually wondering if you might help Sasha with some of the recordings for the archive project.”

“The recordings?”

“I know Tim and yourself have been focused on research with Sasha heading up organization and archiving, but she’s said herself that it’s a bigger task than we had estimated. Gertrude … had her own system. I’m going to ask Tim to help as well, although I thought giving him a bit more time might… be for his benefit.”

He hadn’t noticed before, but Elias looked as exhausted as the rest of them. A bit paler than usual, his eyes less patient. The attack must have affected him too.

“Right…well. I can do that,” Martin nodded. “If it helps.” 

Elias’ smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Good. And Martin?” 

“Er, yes?”

“That podcast you were listening to. While it doesn’t hurt to get a sense of the competition I would prefer that you do it in your own time.”

“Oh.” Martin blushed. “Sorry. Yes. Com--Competition?” 

Martin was sure he sensed annoyance although Elias’ expression didn’t change.

“A lot of people that might tell their stories here get drawn in to send in their stories to  _ that  _ podcast instead. It’s a shame they have no interest in real academics. They might be assets.” He stopped. Seemed like he was going to continue, but didn’t. “Nevermind. Why don’t you get back. I’ll send you a few statements I’d like you to archive.” 

“Right.” 

Martin left Elias’ office, quietly kicked himself that he didn’t ask if this meant he’d get a raise and headed back to the archives and his desk. He slipped his earbuds back in as he walked down the halls. 

He had started listening to WTG in the months following Prentiss showing up at his doorstep. They had an episode on her. It was talked a lot about on social media because it was one of the few episodes Jon wasn’t scathingly skeptic. He didn’t say the word monster, but he did admit that whatever she was she existed and she was dangerous. 

After that Martin had kept listening. Catching up on all the backlog. Jon and Georgie were a point of light in the darkness of being hidden in the institute while worms kept showing up on their doorstep.

He was relistening now because… well… some of the statements matched up with their episodes, but they had made connections the Institute hadn’t. Martin had even dug up a few statements that had connected with their episodes they hadn’t known about yet. Sasha had encouraged this at first, but after the attack… she had gotten …

Possessive? She had taken all the tapes she had recorded. Told them she was organizing them in a particular way and that they were off limits now. He thought she was going to hit him when he had tried to take one to cross reference with the WTG episode on garbage collectors. 

In retrospect she probably wouldn’t like Tim and Martin doing recordings. He mentally sighed. As if the archives needed more tension.

Something was going on. Something that went beyond post-traumatic stress and supernatural worms. It was like there was a secret in the air that no one was saying. 

And they couldn’t go back to normal.

Tim radiated unspoken anger, and Sasha kep breaking her computer and going on long lunches. Martin… he just wanted … the sense of unease to lift. 

Gertrude’s body hung over his head. All those tapes the police had confiscated. They probably had answers, but what was he going to do? Phone up the police and ask if he could listen to them? Maybe Tim could do that, but he wasn’t Tim. He’d look crazy, or guilty. 

But maybe there were answers here, in this podcast. It seemed like they focused on the same things. Maybe there was even something about Gertrude. At this point it wouldn’t surprise him. 

He needed help. And maybe just listening wouldn’t be enough. 


	2. Melanie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melanie has two choices. The Magnus Institute or Jon. 
> 
> She chooses the lesser of two evils.

“Why are you talking to me about this?” 

This had to be rock bottom. At the pub with Jonathan Sims, co-host of What the Ghost!? and pompous arse extraordinaire. She had only met Georgie’s partner a handful of times at mutual friends’ and performers’ parties and events. She listened to the show and she got it. He had a weird sort of appeal that the internet would love with the magic of Georgie’s editing. His masculine voice probably didn’t hurt either. In person  Melanie found him stuffy and insufferable. At every turn he had to disprove whatever someone else was working on. He was like the worst versions of a believer and skeptic all rolled into one person. 

She had no idea what Georgie saw in him. The only answer she got was: “He’s not good in big social settings.” With a few promises that when they weren’t busy they would have a quiet night in so that she could meet Jon properly. 

Georgie was endlessly busy, and Melanie had been too… well… until now. 

And despite knowing Georgie better. Despite knowing Georgie would at least take her more seriously than anyone else would in the Ghost Hunting community it was Jon that she had emailed for a meeting. 

She didn’t like him. 

But maybe she wanted some of his skepticism right now.

“It was you or the Magnus Institute,” She admitted taking a pull of her drink. Jon straightened at that.

“I’m surprised.” 

“Are you?”

“I know how you feel about the Institute.” Jon said.

“They act high and mighty in their ivory tower when they let anyone off the street make up stories and take it as evidence,” Melanie said her foul mood billowing. “So I know at least they wouldn’t kick me out.” 

“But instead you’re coming to me,” Jon said slowly. “Because no respectable paranormal investigators will believe you? That doesn’t say much for your opinion of me.” 

This was a bad idea. 

“I probably won’t believe you.” Jon added, a bit too matter-of-fact to be polite about it.

Melanie scowled at him. 

“Great.” 

He sloshed his drink in his cup, thinking. 

“You sensationalize things…” He said slowly, “But your research isn’t bad.”

“Oh thanks so much,” She said sarcastically. “This was a mistake.” She moved to stand.

“Wait. Listen. I…” He huffed trying to get his words out before she stormed away. “I don’t believe most stories I hear… but maybe I can help you figure out what it actually was. I… I’m not trying to be a bastard I just…” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m not trying to be a bastard. Tell me and we can try to sort it.” 

She sat back down, almost against her will. He really was the only person she was willing to go to with this. Maybe because if he’s skeptical about it well… he’s sceptical about everything and it’ll hurt less than people she actually holds high opinions of dismissing her. 

“Fine. It’s your fault anyway, well, not yours, Georgie’s.” 

“What does Georgie have to do with it?” His brow furrowed.

“It was when we were doing the episode on the Cambridge Military Hospital. Did she tell you?”

“Yes, something about asbestos and Peter unwilling to be exposed. She recommended you…” His voice dropped unpleasantly. “Sarah.”

“Not a fan?”

“Were you?”

“Yeah, no she was horrible. I suppose we can agree on that.” 

“She did some location work for us. She’s…” Jon glanced at her. “She’s… not very professional, but she does good sound work and was available last minute. What does she have to do with anything?”

“You didn’t notice anything weird about her?” Melanie pressed. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Beyond being monosyllabic and her constant smoking?” 

“And her smell.” Melanie pressed.

He wrinkled his nose. “It was distracting. Is this a… a professional argument? Because I’m not the person to--”

“It has nothing to with her work,” Melanie said, annoyed. “I’m not trying to drive her out of the business, I think she’s--” She cut herself off. “I need to start at the beginning.” 

She told him.

Everything.

The strange first meeting, the constant smoking, the sickeningly sweet perfume, the overnight stay, getting up and finding her missing. 

The stapler. 

Everything.

And he listened through it all without interruption. His face remained blank. She was surprised. She was sure he would be the type to cut in with questions and interruptions. Or even show some sign of not paying attention, or disparaging looks. But he was quiet. Eyes on her, nodding in the right places.

She felt… better when she was done.

“You had video of the event?” He asked her at last.

“Nothing that would prove anything,” She said sliding the tape over to him. “It was dark, and there’s lots of distortion.” 

“I’ll take a look.” He took the tape. 

“Well?” 

“Hm?”

“What do you think?”

“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” 

“Really?” She gritted her teeth.

“Vivid dreams in an old hospital with a woman you don’t trust. It’s more likely than your sound operator stapling her skin back on, isn’t it?” 

She crossed her arms. “I wasn’t dreaming. I have video evidence that I was awake.” 

“Alright.”

“So you don’t believe me.”

He hesitated. “The fact that you came to me and not Georgie, or anyone else for that matter makes me think you’re trying to play some sort of … trick on me.” 

“Wha--This is NOT about you!” She poked his chest. “Of all the self absorbed, high and mighty--”

“I know you don’t like me!” He said in a rush. “So I don’t see why this would be anything other than some sort of jab at me for publicity. Maybe you want me to make accusations against Sarah so you don’t have to. Or you want to start some strange internet rivalry, or whatever it is you do to get attention.”

“Attention!? Of all the--forget it. Just forget I told you anything.” She grabbed her purse and stomped out of the pub. Strings of epitaphs for the pompous, paranoid prick flew through her mind. 

“Wait! Melanie!” 

“Really?” She turned around. “What do you want?” She hadn’t expected him to follow her. 

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated talking too fast. He took a breath. “I have a tendency to… I’ve been working on it. I--” He stuttered. “I’m not good at explaining, Georgie is better at--”

“You can’t hide behind Georgie for everything. One day people are going to realize how much she edits to make you sound like a human being.”

He flinched. She mentally winced. Too far. 

“That--” He sighed. “Right.” He took a few steps back from her. “I’ll… still look at the recording. I’ll email you if there’s anything useful.” 

“What’s the point? You don’t believe me.” 

“I… I believe things that have proof to back them up. Is that really so terrible?” 

“You ignore people’s stories like they don’t mean anything. Don’t you trust anyone?”

“I trust Georgie,” Jon said. It was an oddly sweet thing to say for him. “And I--I know Georgie trusts you… so…” He made a weak gesture. “So I’m sorry, I was… being an ass.” 

“Yes you were.” Melanie had the tendency to hold on to her anger. She had worked hard to get where she was, and it was the only shield she had against rude skeptics, internet trolls, and even her own family at times. She was used to people punching her down and Jonathan Sims reminded her of every one of them.  

But none of them had tried apologising. 

“But...it was out of line… about Georgie editing I mean--yeah. Just...tell me if you find anything. I’d appreciate it.” 

He nodded and they awkwardly parted ways.


	3. Basira

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basira discusses her case with Daisy while listening to her favourite podcast.

“The only reason I don’t put a name to these books is there are people that would look for them.” Jonathan Sims grumbled over Basira’s car speakers.

“Maybe we should go into it. It’s one of the few supernatural things you actually believe in. Whenever we get stories about haunted books you get all perky.”

“...perky?” 

Georgie snorted. “Alright, maybe not the right word. You seem to wake up. So, if these books are dangerous isn’t it a good idea to warn the public?”

“I suppose but… putting a name to them could be just as dangerous.”

“Are there any signs to watch out for?” 

“If you find a book that draws you in--”

“The Hellbound Heart, officially a spooky book.”

“....You said wanted warning signs.”

“Alright, alright, go on, Jon--”

Daisy snorted.

“What?”

“Jurgen Leitner.” She said. “That’s what he’s talking about.”

Basira frowned keeping her eyes on the road. Daisy didn’t usually offer up much information for sectioned cases. “What’s a Jurgen Leitner?”

“Trouble. If you ever find a book with that name in it burn it. And if you can’t burn it, run and pray.” 

“Really?”

“Mm.” 

Georgie’s voice again as they settled back into silence. “Old books, compulsion, strange sensations, smells, auditory hallucinations, you know what this all sounds like, Jon?”

“I’m well aware. Things that you should seek medical attention for. Signs of stroke, seizure, and mental illness. The books are real though.”

“Now, I get a lot of your ‘prove it’s Jon.”

Basira smiled. Jon’s skepticism was overdone at times. It was nice to see him getting the other end of it from his co-host. Georgie was the believer of the duo, but she wasn’t blind about evidence. She’s a smart cookie and the two kept each other on their toes. She’d never admit it, but they reminded her of her and Daisy in some ways.  

“Yes,” Jon said. “I know. I’m sure I come off as a hypocrite. I don’t care. They’re real.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my partner?” Georgie said with mock shock. 

“Hah. Hah. Let’s look at Sebastian’s story then. Perhaps we’ll find some evidence there.”

“Be still my heart.” 

“This isn’t the first book we’ve heard about, Georgie!”

Daisy fiddled with the sound bringing it down a little. “He’s a charmer.”

“You said it yourself that he’s right, if he is talking about those books.”

“Leitners. Yah.” Daisy stared out the window, rain started hitting the glass. “Nasty things,” She muttered to herself. “I don’t understand why you like this show. Being sectioned and all. These two might stumble on a fact or two, but at best it’s watered down and second hand, and at worst they’re spreading things that shouldn’t be spread.”

“It’s better than the Archers.”

Daisy didn’t say anything for a moment, but Basira could feel her narrowed eyes on her. 

“Archers is relaxing.”

“Right.”

“And I’m the ranking officer. You’re lucky we switch at all.”

“Right Ma’am. Sorry.” She would have added a sarcastic salute, but with the heavy rain it was better to keep her hands on the wheel. Daisy always got edgy in heavy rain. She didn’t know why. 

“I went back to the Institute.” Basira offered.

“Anything interesting?”

“It’s...a weird place.” 

“That’s why you’re assigned to it.” 

“I know, I just...have you ever been there personally?”

“No, just heard the rumours. Why?”

“I don’t know…” Basira said slowly. “As soon as I went down into the archives it was like I was being watched. Just a feeling on the back of my neck.” She shrugged.

“Any suspects?”

“The head archivist Sasha James had the most to gain, but she seems… average.”

“You sound doubtful.”

“You know how some people are just… too perfect? Too cookie cutter? That’s what it felt like talking to her. She seemed… too boring almost. After what happened down there it was...weird. It’s like… her life’s a stock photo. Exactly as it should be. Nothing out of place. Nothing too exceptional.” Basira drummed her fingers on the wheel. Daisy hummed, listening. Basira continued on:

“There was the one that got attacked by the worms, Stoker. No motive, never met the victim, I’m surprised he still works there. He seems like the type that could get a job wherever he likes. Handsome bloke.”

Daisy sniffed. Basira’s mouth quirked and felt a little silly for it, hoping that it might be a little bit of jealousy.

“The last one … he doesn’t strike me as a murderer. Not that it can’t be the quiet ones. A lot of times it is the quiet ones, but… I don’t think he has the guts or teeth for it honestly. He was nervous talking to me, but I think it was because he’s an anxious person talking to a police officer. Went over finding the body in the tunnels again, it all checked out.”

“And the boss?”

“Eh, didn’t set off any alarms. He’s kind of smug, but he’s also a man with a fancy title so that comes with the territory. I’m sure it was an inside job though. The bloody table, the location of the body…”

“They get plenty of freaks in there,” Daisy pointed out. 

“I don’t know...just… instinct.” 

“The best hunts are never straightforward,” Daisy said. “Keep at it. Bring me in if you need me.”

“I’m sure I can handle a bunch of librarians.”

Georgie’s voice cut in then with: “So watch yourself in libraries and keep sending in your submissions! I’m Georgie and that was Jon. Goodbye!” 

The ending music started playing. Georgie’s voice came back in: “What the Ghost!? is a podcast distributed by whattheghost.com and licenced under a creative commons attribution noncommercial sharealike international licence. Our submission today came from Sebastian A. If you have a topic for our team to research please submit your story to w--” Daisy turned off the show. 

“Sometimes I think I should look into those two.” Basira said. There was a cafe not far from their location. She could use some tea. 

“The podcasters?”

“They could be in danger. They’re not just talking about ghosts and horror stories. Some of their things fall into sectioned stuff.”

“They’re not breaking the law,” Daisy said. “And warning them off would probably encourage them more than anything.”

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.” 

Daisy turned the dial to Radio 4. Basira sighed. 


	4. Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Elias have their version of an intimate moment. Elias listens to the competition.

 

Peter watched Elias dress while he sprawled on the cooling bed. Underwear, pants, undershirt, socks, shirt, button, button, button, button mm. Some people enjoyed their partner stripping. Peter wasn’t some people. 

Already done with him. Well they weren’t together because Elias was a cuddler. Might be nice though. Freezing fog ran over his skin and he sighed in deep satisfaction. 

Elias’ phone made a little alerting beep and instantly scooped it up. He fiddled with it and the voices of two young people talking about spooky things filled the silent room. Quite a lark considering the state of things. It was the usual two of course. Elias’... interest in them had been consistent since he took care of Gertrude. Peter had heard it often enough to know their opening and tagline. He yawned. He didn’t see the appeal. Elias never missed a new episode and always had to listen to it as soon as it came out. The Head of the Magnus Institute sat on their previously shared bed, forgetting that he was on his way out. Peter was still being ignored. 

“And now Jon is going to say something ridiculous to explain it, like a weather balloon or global warming disrupting the habits of wasps--”

“Shut up, Peter.” Elias held up his hand. 

Peter chuckled, a lazy smile pulled across his face. Ignored for a silly podcast. Elias was the only one that could make him feel this way. He pulled himself up and wrapped his arms around the other man from behind. Elias made annoyed sounds, but didn’t shove him away. Peter tried to figure out if that was meant to be a punishment or if Elias actually liked the weight of him. 

There were so many layers between the two of them Peter could write his own version of it. 

He closed his eyes, listened to the two voices. Jon and Georgie. 

“Really, Jon?” 

“I’m not saying aliens. That is not what I said!” 

“You used the word invasion, Jon.” Georgie laughed. 

“I am being misquoted.” 

“Invasion is the word you used!” 

“It was bugs, Georgie!” 

“Then why not say ‘infestation’?” 

“...Because I don’t think that’s what this sounds like. Do you remember that email, the one from the ‘witch.’ We didn’t air it because it seemed too … intense?”

“Jane Prentiss. I remember. It’s one of our lost episodes you can listen to on our Patreon.” 

“It’s on our Patreon?”

“As you can see, Jon has no idea how our Podcast is actually funded.” 

“Yes. Well… that yes. Prentiss. Doesn’t this infestation remind you of her?” 

“I suppose.” Georgie said slowly. “But the Magnus Institute takes in any story. They’ve probably got a few involving her.”

“Probably. It’s just that they’ve come up a lot recently. And now a… whistleblower? Insider?”

“You should go there.” Georgie joked. “Check out the competition. Perhaps this mystery insider will show you all the skeletons.”

Peter opened his eyes feeling Elias’ spine straighten underneath him. A pondering stillness. That was it then.

“Do you want the boy or the girl?” Peter asked casually enjoying the jealousy seeping in, tensing his shoulders. “I suppose it makes sense, you’re looking for a new one. You don’t have a lot of time left until the big day.” 

Elias turned swiftly, pushing him off. Those piercing eyes of his hurting every inch of him. He forced himself not to pull his fog over for cover. Being seen was a sensory overload. It hurt, but it hurt achingly good. 

Elias had a grumpy face. Ah. Adorable. 

“They’re pulling statements to them. That shouldn’t happen.” 

Oh, he didn’t know something. Peter tried to take a mental picture. Elias hated not knowing something. He wasn’t completely omniscient, at least not yet, but normals getting the better of him must be irritating.

And alluring. That was what Elias saw in him after all. Absolutely nothing. That’s what made him interesting. 

“Maybe the Eye found your choice lacking and is looking for fresh meat.” Peter suggested.

“Sasha was suited. A brilliant woman.”

“You were always complaining about how she was too careful.”

“Apparently I was wrong.  The NotThem got her because she had to be a hero. Driven by selflessness instead of curiosity.” 

“There you are then. Your god surely didn’t like that. Maybe these two are actually competition. They did say they have a Patron.”

“A Patreon, Peter.” Elias turned away mid-eyeroll. “I swear. ”

“Computers rot the brain.” 

“I know you’re playing dumb to annoy me.” 

Peter tried to kiss the side of his face. Elias stood up. Turned off his phone.

“You should send an invitation, they seem eager enough.”

“That’s more the Web’s style don’t you think?” Elias said putting on his cufflinks. 

“It’s smart to steal other teams’ plays. I don’t see why these two are such a thorn. I could take care of them for you. Internet people are usually very lonely. Would you like that, Elias?” 

“Don’t you dare,” Elias said. “I need to know what they’re doing. They’re meddling somehow. I just don’t know how yet.” 

Peter let himself fall back on the pillows. “Suit yourself. But whatever you do you’ll need to do it soon. You have a leak.”

“Yes.” Elias said stonily. “And I think I know who it is.” 


	5. What the Q?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Georgie answer some questions in their summer break Q and A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to raspberrysundae, elfgrunge, aussie-bookworm, and desert-lurker for letting me use their usernames/giving me ideas for usernames!
> 
> Especially big thanks to Raspberrysundae for helping me out with this chapter.
> 
> Sidenote: All the WTG contact info is fake and neither I nor anyone I know owns the handles.

“Hello and welcome to What the Q!? I’m Georgie Barker.”

“And I got outvoted on the name.”

“He loves it. He just pretends not to.” 

“It doesn’t make sense!”

“With me is my love and co-host Jonathan Sims and today for the first time we’re doing a special Q and A as a Patreon reward to tied you over during our summer break.” Georgie grinned at Jon and leaned against him. He rolled his eyes but pressed against her as well. “We asked for your questions on Twitter.”

“At WTGcast.”

“And our email.”

“wtgpod at gmail.”

“And of course our Patreon.” 

“Patreon dot com slash whattheghost.”

“He learned it all himself.”

“I’m not computer illiterate despite the memes out there to the contrary.”

“Why don’t we get to some questions. Shall I read one out for you?”

“Let me guess.”

“Hm?” Georgie looked up from her tablet that contained all the questions she had selected for the show.

Jon had that intense look he’d get sometimes. “Why are you so staunchly skeptical about some things and not about others?” He offered. 

“I’m sure that’s in there somewhere. Did you want to address it now?”

“Hm…” Jon hesitated. Georgie marked the time as a potential cut. Jon didn’t really like getting personal with strangers. When their podcast started climbing the charts on Itunes and he started getting attention directed at him he almost walked away from the entire thing. There was a lot of long nights and conversations before he agreed to keep going. The Q and A was really a bit of a build up. They were getting invitations to conventions which would be essential for their brand and for funding, and their online presence was growing. They’d even have to start hiring other people on soon.  But it would be hard for Jon. Sometimes she wanted grab him by the shoulders. Tell him not to be afraid. That it was holding him back.

But that wasn’t fair. 

“Why don’t we go with your first question and work up to it.” Jon said. “I do have an answer but… maybe let’s not start there?”

“No problem, Jon.” She squeezed his hand and lifted her tablet. “Our first question is from Elfgrunge. They ask: Why do you use a fake accent for the show?” It took all of Georgie’s will to keep a straight face.

There was a long moment of dead air. Jon gave her a  _ look _ . 

“The people want to know Jon.”

He gave a soft groan. “I don’t know how this rumour started. My accent is real. This is how I talk.”

“You do lean into a bit of a crypt keeper vibe for the intro.”

“Oh yes,” Jon nodded in agreement. “That’s for effect, but it’s more about pitch than my accent.”

“Confirmed. Jon is a citizen of the United Kingdom and speaks like a local. Or at least that’s what he claims. Why don’t you ask the next question?”

He smiled at her as he took the tablet.

“Desert-Lurker has a question for you, Georgie: have you always been into horror? Do you have a favourite horror writer?” 

Georgie laughed. “Well… it’s funny because what me and Jon are doing… it is in the category of a horror podcast. Creepy stories every two weeks about things that are unbelievable, but I’m not sure if horror is exactly the right word for it.”

“A lot--the majority I’m fairly certain are just stories,” Jon added raising his eyebrows to see if his interjection was alright. She nodded.

“From Jon’s perspective at least,” She agreed. “But our goal is to research and share real people’s stories and experiences with the supernatural. I know we get a lot of comments that we’re writing the stories we share ourselves and Jon and I are just doing a bit, but we aren’t. People send us stories, we research the ones that interest us and share our research with all of you. That said I used to be into horror comics as a kid, but … fell out of it. Swamp Thing was a favourite, and Hellblazer. Constantine was actually pretty big for me thinking about it. Seeing a bisexual character in the early 2000s was rare. But… yeah I’m not interested in the horror genre as an escape anymore.”

Jon was nodding along with her story. He passed her back the tablet. 

“Let’s go to a question for both of us. This one comes from Mothman-is-my-Dad. Great username: How do you decide which submissions and stories to go forward with? Do you go in order or do you have a process?”

“Oh, that’s a good question,” Jon said approvingly.

“Well, to start with we do not make a show for every story sent in.” Georgie said. 

“Yes,” Jon agreed. “That would be a lot of work, and… while I have certain reservations…--”

“Are you still mad about Ghost spider?”

“Don’t talk to me about Ghost spider.-- while I disparage some of the stories sent in, the ones that we don’t record. Well.” His voice dropped disapprovingly. “You can only imagine.” 

Georgie made an exaggerated nod. She was the one looking through all those emails after all. The things people would send them. Yikes. She continued:

“I look through the submissions and weed out the ones that aren’t viable. Sometimes it’s because it’s obviously fake, sometimes because there isn’t enough information for us to get started. Even then we have a very large backlog of stories that we’d like to look into.”

Jon hummed. “We put them into categories: does this story have potential to be true? Are there ways we can do follow up? Will our listeners want to hear about it?”

“Will Jon want to research it?”

“Well…”

“Not that I slack being producer, sound mixer, and social media head of our little company, but Jon does the majority of information gathering and research. I’ll give him a few with potential and he’ll choose one. We go from there. Sometimes he flat out refuses.”

“I--yes…some of them just don’t… it’s a gut thing.”

Georgie snorted.

“What?”

“It’s just funny for you to say that.”

“Fair enough.” 

“And, just so we’re clear. He might whinge about it, but he did approve Ghost Spider enough to do the research.”

“There were elements strange enough to warrant investigation. Honestly though I should have put my foot down the very idea of it--But…yes. I’ll take the story and look into any provided evidence and hand off my findings to Georgie. We build the episode around that.”

“And then the magic happens,” Georgie finished with a one handed jazz hand for Jon’s benefit. He smiled and plucked the tablet from her.

He snorted reading over the question.

“Georgie, Raspberrysundae wants to know: Who’s the goodest boy? Jon or the Admiral?”

Georgie grinned. “Jon comes in second place for sure.” 

“I can accept that. He’s a tough cat to beat.”

“To be fair, Jon would sell me up the river for the Admiral, it’s all mutual.” 

Maybe because he heard his name a paw was suddenly poking under the doorway. Georgie and Jon burst out laughing. Immediately Jon went to open the door. Georgie noted the time for the recording although she thought she might keep it in since it was a bit of a behind the scenes episode.

“See, look at you babying him. No cats in the studio.” 

“He’ll be good.” Jon said scooping the large cat into his arms and bringing him over. Georgie gave the Admiral a scritch on the head. 

“He’s purring all over the equipment.” 

“Question and Answers are supposed to be more  _ real _ aren’t they?” 

“Give me my cat.” She pulled the Admiral into her arms and he happily flopped across her lap. “Don’t mind the purring, Jon once again has chosen cat over sound quality.” 

“Oh, they love it,” Jon smirked. His hand ran through the Admiral’s fur. She gently pushed the cat back into Jon’s lap so she could maneuver the tablet and her notes a bit easier.

Georgie skimmed through the questions. “Jons-Skepticism asks: When you came out with your Pride WTG logo pins I was super excited that you included aro and ace. You said when you announced them that you would have to keep an ace pin especially for Jon. You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, I was wondering though if Jon is ace or if it was just a joke?”

She had mentioned before hand to Jon that there was a question about it and asked if he wanted to include it in their Q and A. He had agreed. 

“That was a very recent episode so I think it will be good to answer this one directly. There was a bit of a backlash accusing Georgie of outing me on the podcast or of making a rude joke, but we do edit this, and I have a little bit of say for what gets included.”

“Just a little. Wouldn’t want it to go to his head.” 

“Georgie was just being… sweet. She wasn’t making a joke at anyone’s expense. The truth is I don’t really know much about the community and the terms used. Georgie has been helpful in that, but I’m…” He trailed off thinking about it. “I grew up as … odd for a lot of reasons. A lot of things… didn’t make sense to me… you know how I feel about evidence and proper justification of things. Gender and orientation weren’t things I struggled with exactly. It was just a… lack of interest? Boys can’t wear skirts, girls can’t be on the football team. It seemed like useless rhetoric. And when you get to a certain age you… feel a certain way. Sorry. I’m trying to… explain it. My internal feelings never had to interact with the rest of the world. I saw myself as weird and I didn’t expect that others would understand me or feel the way I did. Society tries to convince us that we’re broken if we’re not the same as everyone else. Sometimes it succeeds… Georgie has helped me understand. I’m a private person. I don’t think I would be able to talk about it without her…” He sighed. “I’m rambling I hate rambling. I’m just… learning. Asexual fits… with how I am. I’ve never really needed a label before, or even knew there was one. I was sort of insulted when I heard the term the first time thinking about single-celled organisms. I like it better now. There is a comfort in it, that other people are the same… so I wanted to pass that on. That’s why we kept it. It’s not really anyone’s business… but maybe if one of the authors I read as a child had written about someone like me I would have felt different in my… more awkward years. We were trying to go for casual.”

“We forgot that sometimes it’s better to be explicit.” 

They chuckled. 

Georgie checked the time. 

“Alright Jon, I think we have time for one more question which is a pretty big one. This comes from MKBwood: Have either of you seen the supernatural before?”

Jon started stroking the Admiral’s fur and a long silence stretched between them. As they both were urging the other to go first.

They had talked about it before… in the vaguest sense. When they started Georgie asked. Jon said yes. It had come as a surprise considering his skepticism, but he was openly researching the supernatural back in school, there had to be a reason for it. And Georgie… well… she had only answered: Yeah. Me too. They had never gone into detail. It wasn’t about trust it was like… infection. She didn’t want Jon to get poisoned by it the same way she had. But maybe he had his own poison too. 

Jon spoke first, his attention solely on the Admiral. 

“I… have, but I won’t go into it.” He smiled bitterly. “I can’t prove it you see. There’s no point in sharing something that can’t be proven. And yes. I hate that I can’t. Perhaps that’s an answer for my brand of skepticism. I know that there are things out there. But… I have to believe there can’t be that many of the… things like it. Not without solid evidence.”

Oh. That did explain a lot. 

“I have as well.” Georgie said slowly. “That was when I stopped liking horror stories.” She added ironically. “When it’s real the fantasy becomes unappetizing and… not very interesting. There are things in our world that are secret. That we don’t understand. Maybe it goes back to what Jon was saying about… seeing and knowing others that have the same experiences as you. There’s a comfort in it, and spreading information that is interesting, that maybe could even save somebody is the right thing to do. I’m not afraid of the things out there. But they cause a lot of trouble.” 

More silence between them. Absentmindedly Georgie noted it. 

“Well,” She forced a brighter tone. “On that cheerful note I think we’ll call it there. Thank you so much to those that submitted questions. I’m Georgie Barker.”

“And I’m Jonathan Sims.”

“Goodbye!” 

This would be the part where the outro and theme music would play, but that would all be edited in later. Jon let the Admiral crawl off his lap and over to Georgie. She stroked his fur. 

“I don’t suppose you want to talk about it?” She asked. 

“I don’t ever want to talk about it, Georgie… it. It was a Leitner.”

“The books?”

“Yes.” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “It was… a spider.”

“Oh. That explains…”

“The disdain for them? Yes. I… I’ll never forget it. I remember every line of that book… what about you?”

“A dead woman spoke to me,” Georgie replied. “She told me the future. She stole my fear, or maybe there was just nothing scarier than what she had said.” 

Jon nodded pensively. 

“I think that’s good.” Georgie said turning off the equipment. “Want to take the rest of the night off? I’ll start editing tomorrow. We can get takeout.”

“As long as it’s not Hungarian.” Jon forced a smile, his eyes weren’t in it. He was still thinking of his spider. 

“I suppose we can get a curry instead then.” She took his hand and pulled him to a stand. Held him and kissed his cheek. 

“I’m alright. I just… try not to think about it.” 

“One day we’ll owe each other the stories, but maybe not today?”

“Yes. Not today.”


	6. Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim meets someone for dinner.

 

He chose one of his second date restaurants. He started to regret it while waiting alone at the table drinking water and wondering if wine was a good idea. The waiter had recognised him. Gave him a knowing little smile and while that would usually be a very welcome advance indeed, it set him more on edge. Being recognised. Known. 

And he wasn’t waiting for a date on the verge of standing him up. 

He was just about to call the waiter over and order the wine after all when a woman came up to his table and sat down.

Tim felt a startle of relief and uncertainty. He recognised her of course. Sitting across from him was Georgie Barker without the usual angles of social media to soften a sharp and curious gaze through cat eye glasses. 

“Um, hello, Georgie?” He asked for lack of anything better to open with. “I’m--I’m Tim. Sorry about the cloak and dagger bit. I just… can’t be too careful.”

There was the hint of a concerned frown, but she offered a hand. 

“Good to meet you. I don’t mind the secrecy. The single Begonia on the table is a tad dramatic.” 

Tim had the decency to blush. He removed the flower and put it off to the far corner of the table. He cleared his throat.

“I thought a rose in the button hole might be too suggestive.” 

“Well to the untrained eye it certainly seems like we’re on a date. The information you’ve given us so far has been interesting, but if this is a trick--”

“No! No. It’s not a trick to get you on a date. I actually thought it would be Jon coming.” 

“So you wanted to take my boyfriend on a date?” 

“If times were better I would like to take both of you on a date,” Tim tried to ease the tension, but knew the joke fell flat. He cleared his throat again. “He just seems… the most interested in the Institute.” 

“Which is why I’m here talking to you and not Jon.” Georgie said firmly.

“Oh?” Tim didn’t quite understand.

“I don’t want you to manipulate him with promises about information and access.”

Tim felt a bit confused at that. “I thought he was the skeptical one.” 

Georgie smiled. “He is. When it comes to ghosts. He’s not even particularly trusting, but he can get… obsessive when he wants to know something, so I’m here. I’m who you get. I hope that’s not disappointing.”

“No, no. It’s not. I just need to talk to someone about … this. Someone who doesn’t work there.”

Georgie nodded. She leaned back, more relaxed now that they knew where they stood.

The waiter came by and flashed both of them a smile asking about drinks looking a little bit disappointed at Georgie’s arrival. Georgie ordered water and declined the drinks menu. Tim followed her lead despite his musings on a large glass of red wine. 

“I was surprised,” Georgie said. “That you were so open with what you gave us on the worms. Even urging us to use the Magnus Institute by name. Aren’t you worried you’ll get in trouble? There must be something in your contract about confidentiality.”

Tim chuckled bitterly. “I don’t think it will be a problem really.”

“Why do you say that? On your way out? Is this a grudge?” 

Tim ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s hard to know where to start. What I told you, about the worms. About Prentiss. I… thought I was going to die. If Sasha, my boss hadn’t pushed me out of the way I probably would be… or… worse…” He gazed down at the ice cubes swirling in his water glass. 

He startled when the waiter came back, asking for their choices. Georgie asked for ravioli. Tim realized he had been staring off for a long time. He inelegantly asked for what he usually got. The house salad with chicken. The waiter left again. Tim took a quick sip of water.

“Sorry, I--”

“You’ve been through something,” Georgie said. “You can take your time Tim. I’m here to listen.” 

A weird melting relief slid down his shoulders to his stomach. Maybe that’s all he really wanted. Someone to listen to him.

“Elias, the head of the institute. He keeps acting like everything is normal. Sasha is… distant, we used to… I don’t know. We used to be closer, and Martin. Martin just keeps making tea for everyone and asking if we’re okay. I just...I--none of us should be okay. We were attacked by a monster. I was eaten alive.” He gestured to the scars littered all over his body. “Something is wrong there. Something… bigger than crackpot stories about ghouls, but no one seems to care except me, and… someone is watching me. I can feel it. Everytime I’m down there there’s eyes on me, but no one is there.”

“I don’t mean to sound unkind, but why don’t you quit?”

“That’s … that’s one of the problems. It sounds… crazy. But I can’t. I don’t know if any of us can. I… I should quit. I know I should quit, but I can’t say the words. Everyone else seems to justify it. It’s a good job, or we need to stick to it, or we need to find out what’s going on, don’t we? Well… that’s what Martin’s been saying. Sasha just laughed and said she didn’t know what I was talking about… but. I just. I can’t quit, and I don’t think Sasha or Elias are going to fire me either.”

“That’s why you’re not worried about name dropping the Institute.” 

“I was hoping something would happen. Nothing did.” 

Georgie gestured for him to go on.

“I think,” Tim continued. “I think it’s that feeling. That someone’s watching me that’s the worst. If there was someone I could blame then at least I could… deal with it? Confront them? The more I look, the more it goes back to the Archives. Like the whole place is…” He sighed. “Cursed. I know it sounds mad.”

“I’ve heard stranger things,” Georgie shrugged nonchalantly. Even for someone keenly interested in the supernatural she didn’t seem shaken at all. Just curious.

“I think it could be dangerous… I mean. It has been already.” He gestured at his scars again. Georgie shrugged, unworried it seemed. 

“You don’t seem concerned.” 

“It is dangerous,” She agreed. “You might be putting me and Jon at risk if there’s something malevolent there. I won’t pretend it isn’t a possibility.”

It was weird, her reaction felt off. Somehow disingenuous to their conversation, not that he was trying to be scary… it was just… something about her expression was strange. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but then, he was feeling more and more paranoid. Elias making him read statements hadn’t helped him any. 

Their food was dropped in front of them breaking some of his built up tension. Georgie tucked into her pasta with ease. Tim wasn’t feeling hungry. He pushed the lettuce around his plate.

“I do believe you Tim,” Georgie said looking up at him. “And I want to help you.” She frowned, her eyes dropping for a moment before meeting his again. “Jon will want to hear this. I was hoping to keep him out of it for a little longer, but you need help, and he’s impossible to keep things from, especially when they’re about what he’s interested in.” She got her own far away look. “Obsession can be a dangerous thing. You don’t know what’s going to be behind the door…” She sighed. “Alright then.” Georgie  met Tim’s eyes again. “I can’t promise you protection Tim. Jon and I are podcasters. We’re not even really that far off the ground yet. I don’t have any big time lawyers. Every pound we scrape goes back into production, and neither Jon nor myself are who you want in a fistfight. But we do want to know. And we’ll help you however we can. But are you sure it’s us you should be talking to and not the police?”

Tim took a breath. Georgie’s face was serious and open. There wasn’t any fear there, maybe that’s what had been bugging him. If she knew what was out there, shouldn’t she be worried about it? But she wasn’t. And identifying that now… it gave him a weird sort of comfort. 

“No police officer would believe a word of it. Even the weird ones.”

Georgie perked up. “Sectioned officers?”

“Sectioned? I don’t know what that is.”

“Never mind. Something Jon’s mentioned to me the other day.”

“I’m coming to you because I think… you two are the only ones with any idea what’s actually going on. And I need that right now.” Oh God did he need that. 

Georgie nodded. “Alright then. We’ll set up another meeting. And I’ll bring Jon. Bring us what you can and we’ll work on finding out the kind of secrets the Magnus Archives are keeping.” 

It was ironic, Tim thought. Uncovering secrets was practically the Institute’s credo. 


	7. The Archivist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monster wanders its new kingdom in despair.

It wasn’t fair. 

It wasn’t  _ fair.  _ The monster kept thinking wandering the halls of its new kingdom. The eye burned over its head. It could barely function knowing it  _ knew it.  _

Consuming the Archivist had seemed a triumph as it took Sasha’s everything and replaced her in everyone’s hearts and minds. For a brief glorious moment there was victory. The Eye would never receive it’s crown now that it’s Queen was captured. 

The Archivist was a stranger now.

Except. It wasn’t. 

It  _ was _ the Archivist. It had to be the Archivist. 

But it wasn’t a Stranger. 

The Eye knew the monster. The Eye’s relentless gaze was on it. On her. 

On Sasha.

NO! NOT! SASHA! She was NOT Sasha. 

It was not Sasha.

It was a monster that nobody knew. That would steal lives and play games and make people so scared. 

But the monster was afraid. Because it was becoming something it didn’t want to become.

A… person? No. No. But whatever it was it was the Eye’s fault.

It was the Eye that made her… identifiable. It was the eye that made people recognise her and smile at her, knowing her, not questioning her. There was no glint of uncertainty. No little frowns that there was something not quite right. 

She was Sasha now. And it wasn’t by her choosing. Oh yes. She had taken the life. Stolen it away. Woven herself--itself--the monster’s self into it. But the Eye made it real.

Was it in such desperate need for an Archivist? Or was this punishment? Or did the Eye want the monster to abandon its mission?

It couldn’t do that though of course. The monster was trapped it’s friends couldn’t come back for it. The nasty man’s table covered it in string. A little marionette. A pinocchio.  A liar forced to be real girl. 

Sasha’s phone beeped. Sasha liked podcasts. Martin had recommended her one just before she was replaced. She had liked this podcast. She thought it was all made up. A well spun tale. 

The monster wanted to find it funny, but it didn’t. It put earplugs in anyway. It was part of the theft. Listening to the things Sasha liked to listen to, making them the monster’s. Maybe it would feel better, reminding itself of that. It skipped through the intro. Skipped past the first few minutes. 

“Rumpelstiltskin is a fairytale,” The boy said. 

“They say names have power.” The girl pointed out. 

“I don’t know if I agree with that… supernaturally speaking.”

The girl laughed at this, “Oh, but you believe it on some level?”

“People change their names all the time,” The boy explained. “Maybe because they’ve gotten married, or converted to a different religion, or they’re transgender and the name they were born with isn’t what they need it to be.” 

“Hm, I think I see what you’re saying.”

“You don’t even need a reason to legally change your name. If you have the money and fill out the proper paperwork you can have a different name. A spirit or ghoul having such a changeable thing grant it power over someone’s life seems far-fetched.  There are people I’m sure that have a True Name. But sometimes that True Name isn’t the one they’re born with. Names are things that people are concerned with. That empower people. Not ghosts.” 

“Even so… a name makes you known.” The girl mused. The Monster felt queasy.

“Maybe it’s not a matter of names then,” The boy suggested. “Maybe it’s being known that’s the problem. Being identified,” The boy’s voice was a low rumble, like prophetic thunder. “Having the monster know exactly who you are in your entirety.” 

The monster heard the crunch and realized it was stepping on Sasha’s phone, earbuds hanging limply from Sasha’s ears. Being Known. Being Known. That was what this place was about, and what did it gain? Nothing. What was the use in knowing? It hadn’t even gained any information or power that the Eye grants its Archivist traditionally. It didn’t know why. The monster couldn’t pull out the stories. It couldn’t see what was hidden. It couldn’t Know. All it had was the title...

That was the problem! It was The Archivist. The Archivist. The Archivist.

It wasn’t Sasha that was breaking it. It was that damn title.

The Monster had a title. It had a name. It had a designation. It had a purpose, and that purpose was everything that the monster was not and could not be. The boy was right. It had something to be KNOWN for and the Eye KNEW it. Knew all of it!

“Sasha! Sasha! Are you alright?” 

Martin. Martin was always around when you didn’t want him. Always seeing at the worst moment. Always poking his nose in. A devotee of the Eye in the worst ways. It hated Martin. It hated Martin’s tea and Martin’s sympathy. 

Martin crouched down in front of her. A panicked look on his stupid face.

“You’re crying. Sasha? Are you alright?” 

“Yes.” She said haltingly. It reached up and touched her face. Tears were streaming down it. She didn’t remember falling to the floor. It didn’t remember crying, but it all came in a rush. That it was sad and it didn’t feel alright. It felt. It  **_felt_ ** . 

What was happening to it?!?

“Here, let--let me help you,” Martin’s large arms reached around and pulled the monster up. The monster wobbled and gripped Martin, hating that it did, that it needed to. Martin guided it to his little desk. Such a small desk for a large man. 

“I’ll get you some water.” He rushed off. It was alone for a moment. 

Its sawdust heart beat in rapid succession. It looked down. Martin’s phone. 

Curiosity tugged at her. She felt vicious anger at its pull. The Eye wanted to be fed?! It won’t get scraps from this monster. It won’t look. It won’t invade the privacy of stupid trusting Martin who didn’t even have a lock screen. It would sit and wait. And hate.

“Here,” Martin said kindly handing the monster water. It drank it down dispising how the water felt good and made it feel a bit steadier and stronger.

“Thank you,” It said because that was what Sasha would say.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Martin asked doubtfully hovering by its arm.

“Yes.” The Archivist answered. “I just need to … sit for a little while--” It noticed the tape recorder and a sheet of paper in the corner of Martin’s desk.

“Were you recording statements?”

Martin winced, caught. He nodded. “Elias asked me--me and Tim actually, to … help out a bit. I hope that’s alright?” 

The Archivist stood up angrily. Martin took a surprised step back. 

“It isn’t alright.” The Archivist hissed. The Archivist grabbed the tape recorder and flung it across the room. It shattered against the wall.

“Sasha!” 

“No one records but me!” The Archivist would starve it. The Archivist would starve the miserable Ceaseless Unending Watcher and let it shrivel. It would have to let the Archivist go if it went unfed. It would have to take away this damned identity if the Archivist refused it.

“Not you. Not Tim. Not Elias. I am the Archivist! I AM THE ARCHIVIST!” 

Martin’s stupid dumb human eyes were wide, his mouth open unsure of what to do.

“I am the Archivist.” The Archivist started to cry. The Archivist collapsed in Martin’s arms, the human hugging the Archivist, trying to comfort the Archivist.  

The Archivist continued to sob, utterly and completely known. 


	8. Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elias does some casual spying and plotting.

Martin and Tim were arguing. It wasn’t so uncommon. Everyone was a bit on edge. Usually it wasn’t worth Elias’ attentions, but considering the little leak that had been happening it was prudent to tune in. He leaned back in his office chair allowing one of his eyes to drift to them, the two of them in view. The expense reports had been murder anyway. 

“And you haven’t mentioned it to Elias?” Tim asked, carefully neutral.

“I… not… no. But we’re all on edge… since… you know,” Martin danced around the Filth’s attack ungracefully, an aborted gesture to Tim’s scars. 

“Sasha didn’t even get the worst of it,” Tim muttered.

Martin frowned at him. “She saved you--all of us. And--it’s not always easy, even if… even if she didn’t get the worst of it. I just--I wonder if you might talk to her.”

“Me?”

“You… you’re… friends,” Martin admitted. Elias didn’t have to be Peter to feel the misty loneliness behind that quiet admittance. Still so desperate to fit in Martin. 

“Friends… right.” Tim ran his fingers through his hair and stepped away. 

“I just think--I just think she needs to talk to someone,” Martin said before Tim could get away. Tim turned.

“Why don’t you talk to her?”

“I don’t… you’re friends!” Martin repeated himself. “Didn’t she get you this job?”

Tim’s mouth tightened, just a little. “Right. Fine. I’ll talk to her, alright?”

Martin smiled in relief. 

“Elias really doesn’t have to know. I think she was just… having a bad day. And she maybe thought us helping recording the statements means Elias doesn’t have confidence in her… or something.”

“It’s not like he’d do anything if he heard,” Tim grumbled under his breath. Elias rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he was incapable of helping his stumbling archive staff. It was that they were useless pieces on a strewn board. The Stranger had gained a big win and he was left picking up the pieces of century old plans. The Archives were imbalanced and neither Martin or Tim filled the hole left by Sasha. His Master rejected them and seemed to have his focus on another point of power all together.

Elias rubbed his head. Such a headache. Oh yes, he was intrigued. And the institute wasn’t the only source of Beholding’s reign. 

But a podcast about ghosts… that was where the Ceaseless Watcher cast its gaze for a new Avatar. Or… for something. Perhaps this wasn’t a new Archivist at all. The NotSasha had something … familiar in her. 

So. What to do? 

His eye followed Martin as he went back to his own desk leaving Tim to have a word with the monster that had replaced their boss. He had headphones in again. His attention drawn outward like his Master’s. Coincidence in their line of work was unlikely. Was he being drawn supernaturally? Or was it Martin’s usual need. To escape. To somehow connect. To pine for friendship and understanding in untouchable places.  

He’d make a nice gift to the Lonely if he ever needed a favour. 

But there was some of the Ceaseless Watcher in him. Martin stood, checked to make sure Tim was still gone and wouldn’t reappear with NotSasha. He carefully went towards the locked file cabinets NotSasha had thrown the old statements in. Oh. Interesting. He was moving fast, trying to cross reference off a list, but giving up and taking tapes at random. 

Well, that was a good sign at least. 

The Unknowing was coming, he had hoped to strengthen Sasha with its trials, now it was just another irritating roadbump. He didn’t miss Gertrude, but he did miss her knack for dismantling the Rituals. It would be so useful right now. If Martin put the pieces together on the NotThem he might stumble his way to finding a solution to Elias’ problem. There were so many things to deal with and Elias appalled at getting his own hands dirty. He wanted to watch. 

Or listen. 

He pulled his attention to his phone and played one of the more recent episodes. 

“One of the interesting things about the Magnus Institute is it takes in anything,” Jon said. “It’s a terrible system. The false statements would outnumber anything solid, but because they take in so much without question it means if anywhere has actual stories of real supernatural events it would be them.”

“Yeah, under all the garbage must be something valuable, right?” Georgie agreed. “Have you ever looked at the history behind it, Jon?”

“Bits and pieces. Magnus, a recluse that liked to collect scary stories from his rich friends. I… admit I’m more interested in the modern era.”

“Jonah Magnus.” Georgie said. “It’s true. He turned into a bit of a recluse, but I was doing a bit of digging. Old clubs, charity auctions, donations, bits of old paper really. But he ran in the same circles as Robert Smirke.”

“Really?” Jon’s voice piqued with interest.

“And Mordecai Lukas.”

“Lukas as in  **those** Lukases?” 

“That’s right. A few other names popup too.”

“Georgie this is incredible.” 

“I thought you might like it. Now what do you think? Secret cult?”

“A secret cult that has to do with scary stories?”

Elias laughed. They were close, in their own way. He stood up. Stretched. 

It would have to be Jon, he decided. Georgie was clever. Smart. Connected things quickly, but she also reminded him of Sasha. Sasha was too brave, too self sacrificing. There was something about Georgie that reminded him of that. Jon’s obsessions with the institute left him open. Left him curious, and curiosity can leave a person blind to everything but answers sought. 

Georgie would pick up on machinations. Tread carefully. Jon would step into fire, knowing it would burn just to know. Damn himself and whoever stood in his path. 

Elias picked out the tape with care and slipped it into an envelope. He looked forward to meeting him. 

He had just finished addressing it when he was interrupted by the shouting outside his door. 


End file.
